Solstice Dawning
by Ptolomeia
Summary: When Sarah can't make it home for the holidays, she decides it's time to move on from past hurts with a certain Monarch. After all, it's the Solstice: a time for new beginnings and old (new?) friends.
1. Moving All the Same

A/N: And on the day of solstice my author gave to me,

A fan fic that is quite fluffy

Happy Solstice everyone! May this story do some small part of bringing back the sun and a little more light it your lives! Enjoy!

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><p>"Yes, Karen," Sarah said, looking at over the kitchen that was still a little messy from making dinner. "I'm sure I'll be fine." Karen was calling (again) to make sure (again) that Sarah would be all right by herself over the holidays. "Actually," Sarah continued, eyeing the small iron amulet she'd picked up a week ago when it became clear she wouldn't be able to make it home this year and the plan had started to form gently in the back of her mind. "I have an old…friend I've invited to stop by. He should be here any minute, so I should really go. Yes. I'll call on Christmas. Yes, Karen. Yes. Alright. Merry Christmas, Karen. Give my love to dad and Toby. Bye." Finally, she was able to hang up.<p>

Sarah picked up the amulet, poked it and watched it swing back and forth. She'd gone on a walk after her first call home, sad knowing she couldn't make it home this year. The amulet had been on display in an antique store and had caught her eye as she walked by. She's recognized symbols for protection engraved on it and had stepped in to look at it more closely. When she'd seen it was iron, she'd grabbed it, payed and left. She found herself looking at it, or stroking it absentmindedly several times over the next couple of days until she finally admitted to herself why she'd picked it up. It was time and past time to bury the past and move on. None of her friends had any idea what she was planning on doing. Her Aboveground friends would never believe her and her Underground ones would try everything they could to stop her. She wouldn't put it past them to start a small revolution just to make sure he was too busy to come and she didn't want to think about how that would end. Or how royally mad he'd be if he found out it was because of her.

No, the time had finally come for her to make the call. All she had to do was put on the amulet and everything would be fine. About a half-hour later, the kitchen was spotless but the amulet still lay untouched on the table. Sarah took a deep breath. 'If I can run the Labyrinth and get back Toby in 10 hours then I can do this.' She grabbed the amulet and slipped it over her neck. 'Right,' she thought, taking another deep breath. 'Now for the hard part.'

She walked into her small—much too small for comfort, given what was about to happen—living room. With one last deep breath, Sarah spoke the seventeenth draft of her speech.

"I wish that this wish be taken in just the sense that I, Sarah Williams, mean it and that the Goblin King would, for the purpose of just speaking unless mutually agreed upon by myself and him, come and talk to me _right now._" This time, there was no crash of thunder, no lightning, no owls, no blowing open of windows, no goblins popping out and scaring her. Not even his outfit was the same this time. The only thing that was the same was him. He looked exactly as she remembered him: wild blond hair in a cloud around his head, self-assured smirk fixed firmly in place and intense, mismatched blue eyes. Sarah had dreamed of those eyes since she was fifteen years old. She was old enough to understand now the promises they'd held then. No, he hadn't changed at all.

"Sarah," Jareth purred. "To what do I owe this… pleasant surprise?" 'Just like you practised,' she reminded herself.

"Hello Jareth," she started the much-rehearsed speech. "I wanted to talk."

"Yes," Jareth interrupted. Sarah hadn't known it was possible to lounge without anything to lounge on, but somehow Jareth managed it. "I rather got that from the wording of the wish. 'For the purpose of just speaking unless...mutually agreed upon.' And to be honest, Precious, I can think of some very... pleasant things."

"Shut up, Goblin King!" His eyes dared her to make him. "And let me finish what I was saying." Jareth raised a placating hand and gestured for her to continue. "I want to talk about moving on."

His face went shuttered, his eyes turned to chips of ice. "No," he said, as the temperature in the room seemed to drop. "We will not, as you so put it, 'move on'. We will not even speak about it. I'd think you were old enough to know, Princess, that there are consequences to your actions." He took a step towards her and Sarah had to remind herself that he had no power over her and couldn't touch her without her permission. She made herself stay in place. "You do not simply get to cut magic out so that you can move on with your life. I won't allow that to happen." Sarah blinked, realizing that he did not understand what she had been offering and perhaps an 18th draft would have been in order. Oh well, too late now.

"Jareth, I wasn't talking about magic. I was talking about us moving on." He opened his mouth to speak and Sarah realized he still didn't understand. Yep. Definitely should have written that 18th draft. "Together." Jareth looked confused and suddenly Sarah didn't feel like she needed a sweater quite as much.

"Pardon?" he asked, looking a lot less frightening. "I'm not quite sure I understand you."

'Right,' Sarah thought to herself. 'Time to make speech 17.2. Now, where was I?' "Over the past six years you are the only person I haven't managed to overcome the past with. I've forgiven Hoggle." Jareth's expression turned darker for some reason when she said the dwarf's name. "I've made peace with the fireys and the door knockers. These days the helping hands are very helpful, even most of the Goblins have forgiven me for what happened to their homes. I think it's time that you and I finally came to terms with what happened between us and move on. Having magic disappear from my life is the last thing I want. Besides, it's Solstice. Time for the rise of the Oak King, right? New beginnings and all that?" Something flickered deep in Jareth's eyes for a moment before he returned to his default haughty expression.

"And how would you suggest we go about 'moving on'?"

"Well," Sarah said, finding a strange sense of normality in this. She'd explained this process many times, after all. "We figure out what our past grievances with each other were and find something we can do to move on. For example, I gave the door knocker some mouthwash and helped him use it. I let the fireys take a hat off my head after getting them to understand the my limbs don't come off—man did that take forever to get through to them—then finding a new game we could play. It ended up being twister." An expression flashed across his face too quickly to properly recognize. Jealousy? Hunger? "Although, I hear they have a weekly game of Scrabble with Sir Didymus now."

"Yes, they do. By far the strangest game of Scrabble I have ever seen and I've seen quite a few," he replied quite dryly. "So, for this… ritual of yours to work, both of our grievances must be aired and addressed with some symbolic action to be completed to signify the moving on past the hurt in our… relationship?"

"Pretty much," Sarah said, glad he understood. This process could take much longer to explain sometimes.

"And as a result of this you want us to become… friends? Bosom companions?" He smiled, as if at some private joke.

"Yep. Well, friends seems like a good place to start." His eyes glittered mischievously and Sarah wondered if it might have been wiser to rephrase that sentence. Oh well, too late now.

"Very well. What are your issues with my conduct in the past."

"Well," Sarah started, ready to run down her mental list. She'd debated which items to keep on and off, what was fair and so on and had narrowed it down to three items. "The Cleaners, the Bog of Eternal Stench and the Roofied Poisoned Peach." Those were the three things that haunted her and that they needed to move past together. Those were the things that he had done to her in the Labyrinth that were personal, more than just messing with any old Runner. "All right. Your turn."

Jareth thought for a moment, taking her in and considering her idea. He decided to match her number of ills. After all, his will was as great as her and he would _not _be seen to be grovelling. However, he also didn't want to overwhelm her with wrongs as he didn't want to make her back out of this strange forgiveness ritual. No, he had other ideas for what to do with Sarah.

"You calling my Labyrinth a piece of cake, your kissing Hoggle, and your fleeing our dance," he finally decided. Sarah glared at him. She really wasn't sure how she felt about the whole "kissing Hoggle" thing, even if she understood why it had hurt him, and wasn't sure what he'd demand in recompense, but she had started this process determined to move on from the past and she wasn't going to give up at the first hurdle. Not the girl who'd won the Labyrinth.

"Fine," she agreed. "Let's figure out what we could do for that. Hm." Jareth watched her frown in concentration, happy to simply watch this woman who had fascinated him for so long finally before him again. At least, happy to, for now. He had plans for his recompense for the slighted dance later. Sarah looked up, eyes bright and happy. "I know! We'll bake a cake and share it! And that works great for my part of the ritual, I want your help cleaning up my kitchen." The Goblin King's eyebrows went up at this suggestion. As her mind provided her with the image of the imposing King of the Goblins in bright yellow rubber gloves, Sarah had to try very hard to keep a straight face as she said, "After all, they were called the Cleaners." Jareth expression didn't change and Sarah decided to change the topic _now_ before her giggle fit would ruin everything. She highly doubted the Goblin King would be taking being giggled at kindly.

"Right," she said, moving toward the kitchen. "I know a pretty simple recipe for cake..." she started moving around her kitchen pulling out ingredients. "Damn, I'm low on sugar and Jerry's out of town..."

"Jerry?"asked Jareth, leaning in the door with a casual stance that was somehow menacing. "Who, might I ask, is Jerry?"

"He lives down the hall," Sarah said as she went through her options and kept an eye on Jareth. "Normally I could ask him for some, but he's out of town visiting his girlfriend's family." Jareth seemed to relax at that as Sarah realized she really should have prepared better for this. Now she'd have to go out and buy some sugar, _and_ some eggs, now that she was thinking about it. And she was low on milk as well... Damn. She eyed Jareth. Could she get him to leave and call him when she got back? If she'd bothered to spare a thought for what she was going to do once he got here instead of purely focusing on how to get him here safely, er, her safe with him here...

"Look, Jareth, I need to go pick up some ingredients. Do you want to meet me back here in, say, an hour? I can do my shopping and be back by then." Jareth considered it.

"Would you not prefer some company?" he offered. Sarah considered him in his poet's shirt and tight—very tight—pants. In fact, she probably spent just a little too long considering his pants as, when she looked back up, he was smirking. Sarah blushed but forced herself to speak.

"It's not that I wouldn't appreciate the company but you don't quite fit in, Goblin King."

Jareth's smirk didn't waver as the rest of him seemed to blur in her vision. When he came back into focus, he was wearing a white button-down and black dress pants and his hair was close cut. Sarah took a moment to consider his new look. 'Well,' she thought, 'he doesn't stick out quite as much anymore, but I like the other look better.' He didn't look quite right looking so... mundane. Not that anything Jareth wore would even consider being anything so banal as mundane.

"Um, a coat? It's supposed to snow tonight..." He pushed off from the door to her kitchen and started walking down the hall. Sarah quickly put her remaining milk and eggs back in the fridge and followed him. He was pulling on a full length midnight blue coat that Sarah knew hadn't come from anywhere in her apartment. Him and his friggin magic getting coats to appear out of nowhere. Sarah reached past him and grabbed her old green jacket, shoved her wallet and keys into her pocket and started heading towards the staircase.

The wind was cold and biting and Sarah really wished she'd thought to grab her scarf and gloves as she'd left. She huddled down in the collar of her jacket wishing it would start snowing already. If it was snowing, it wouldn't be so damn _cold_. The grocery store was only five blocks away, but it was still plenty far enough make her cheeks red with the cold and her breath freeze. She had no doubt that the Goblin King was nice and warm in his fancy, flattering coat. She grumbled under her breath and picked up the pace.

"Sarah, wait." Jareth called out from behind her. She stopped and turned to face him. He was far closer than she had thought and his arms were moving towards her. She didn't have time to register what was going on, or even to flinch before—"You'll catch cold." His expression was cool and distant, but his eyes were soft, as an equally soft wool scarf settled around her neck. "And I refuse to spend my evening with you blowing your nose the entire time or trying to infect me with some vile disease." Sarah pulled the scarf more closely around her neck, touched.

"Jareth," she breathed. He pulled back a step, and gestured her forward. Reminded, Sarah shoved her hands back in her pockets (couldn't he have made some gloves while he was at it?) and continued the trek towards the grocery store and potential cake.

When they got there, the store was warm and filled with Christmas music and good-smelling food. Sarah grabbed a cart and she and the King of the Goblins started grocery shopping. It was a strange experience, walking next to a mythical monarch and comparing prices on sugar.

"I've always thought it amusing," Jareth said as he tilted his head and listened to "Deck the Halls" playing over the PA, "the amount of Pagan symbolism that has managed to make its way into what is supposed to be a monotheistic celebration."

"Well, you've got Constantine to blame for that," Sarah said, making her selection and putting the sugar in her basket before she started to make her way over towards the eggs. "Besides, both celebrations are about pretty much the same thing: light coming into the world. They just celebrate them differently. And besides, I love the smell of the pine tree, the fire, the look of the holly and the ivy strewn around."

"And the mistletoe," Jareth took up the theme, eyes hooded.

"Which pretty much looks like holly so it's not like we need much of that around." She hurried on, trying to get away from the look he was giving her.

"Need? no," he said, eyes going darker and doing strange things to her stomach. "Desire? Well..."

'M'aider! M'aider!' Sarah's brain started to warn her. 'This goes on much longer and you will be making out publicly with the King of the Goblins'

'So?' asked another part of her.

'PUBLICLY,' emphasized the first part.

'Ah, I see your point. Hurry with the shopping, get home and get horizontal that's what I say.'

'But most importantly,' Sarah thought firmly, shutting the other factions up. Damn it this was a dictatorship NOT a democracy. At least he wasn't wearing his normal pants. 'Get away from this and do the damn shopping!'

"Anyway!" Sarah said to Jareth, still a little flustered. "So we can get started, can you go grab four litres of milk, the red cartons, and meet me by the cash?" She pointed towards the back of the store, opposite to the where she'd grab her things, grabbed a carton of eggs, trusting that none were broken and fled.

'Right,' she thought to herself as she took refuge by the potatoes. There really wasn't anything seductive about potatoes. They were safe territory. 'I better grab something here or Jareth will know that I was fleeing.'

'I'm pretty sure he already knows that.'

'Shut up!'

Sarah scanned the isles of produce, looking for something to buy. She had enough bananas for the week. Maybe some oranges? That was when she spotted them. They were strangely perfect for this season: soft, plump and juicy looking. Sarah picked one up, considering it.

"Do I dare to eat a peach?" Sarah wondered, inspecting it for any flaw. Finally, she decided that after all this time, she did. She put it in her basket, grabbed another, inspected it and, adding it as well, made her way towards the cash. On the way there, she noticed some scented candles were on sale. She grabbed a set of vanilla and, checking their smell, once more made her way towards the cash. There she met Jareth, carrying two cartons of milk. It was late and the store was nearly empty, so they payed quickly and left. Jareth had raised his eyebrows at the peaches, but made no comment, for which Sarah was very grateful. Sarah adjusted her new scarf for maximum warmth, grabbed the grocery bags and headed outside.

It had started to snow while they'd been collecting supplies. It fell slow and thick from the sky, coming down in giant flakes, coating the cars, the sidewalks, the streetlights. It blurred out the sharp edges, made the world a softer, gentler place. Simply put, it looked like magic. Sarah glanced back and Jareth, trying to see if he had any part in this. He just stood there, holding the two bags he had taken, looking up at the sky. A gentle smile played about his lips and his eyes were as soft as she'd ever seen them. His expression struck something in her. It was not as loud as joyful, or even as bright as happy. He looked simply content. The snow settled in his too-short hair and started to melt. Quietly, so as not to disturb his peaceful look, Sarah transferred the groceries to one hand and carefully reached out to take his.

He looked at her when he felt her touch and blinked at her owlishly for a moment before smiling with bright eyes. Taking her hand more firmly, he walked with her as she started heading home.

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><p>AN: A few things about this chapter.

The first: Iron is a common folkloric repellant for the supernatural, including the Fae. In fact, it is one of the few things that can hurt them, as far as I have gathered. If you know of other things that can, aside from iron and salt, please message me.

The second: I am aware that the whole pagan symbolism in Christianity is WAY more complicated than "Well, you have Constantine to blame for that" but I felt like writing a fluffy fic, not a history lesson. Also, I'm writing this, not my sister. Who is a wonderful beta that I love.

And Third: In some pagan practices Solstice marks the time where the Oak King triumphs over the Holly king. The Oak come into full growth and majesty with the spring and summer, as the light comes back, whereas the holly stays bright even when other trees have started to fade in the fall. In some practices it is said that the Holly King rules from Summer Solstice to Winter Solstice whereas the Oak King rules from Winter Solstice to Summer Solstice.

Now that I've explained some stuff, on to me begging for your thoughts. So, did you enjoy the chapter? Looking forward to more? Want to print and burn it? Wish that you didn't have to wait till Christmas for the next update? Please let me know! Your reviews keep me going!

Happy Solstice!


	2. The Smallest Gifts

A/N:To all those who celebrate MERRY CHRISTMAS

To all those who don't HAPPY THURSDAY! (Or HAPPY BELATED HANUKKAH! or HAPPY OTHER RELIGIOUS HOLIDAY) Your choice)

On this Christmas/Thursday I would like to say thank you. Thank you to every read, review, favorite and follows this story has received. Normally I try to respond to everything personally, but what with this being so busy a time of year, I haven't had a chance (yet). I just want to let you all know that is is very much appreciated and has been a huge part in bringing light into the darkest time of the year.

Anyone noticed the days getting longer yet? :P

The next (final) update to come on New Years.

Without further ado, Merry Christmas and I hope you enjoy this next chapter and have a wonderful day!

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><p>When Sarah opened the door to her apartment, the first thing she noticed was the colours. There was a lot more green, red and white than there had been when she'd left. The second thing she noticed+<p>

was the goblins. They also noticed her and, with a look behind her and a terrified expression, they dropped what they were doing and fled. What they had been doing, it seemed, was decorating. Garlands of ivy punctuated with little sprigs of holly hung from her walls. Frost seemed to cling to her walls and ceiling, making it sparkle. Thankfully it didn't seem to melt with the warmth in her apartment. When she stuck her head into her living room her own few ornaments had been joined by tinsel, red and gold balls and small decorations. It was absolutely gorgeous. She turned back to look at Jareth who was pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Jareth?" she asked. "What happened here?"

"Goblins did," he replied simply, giving their work a once-over.

"Goblins managed to pull _this _off?" Sarah was incredulous. She'd known quite a few goblins for quite some time and the gorgeous decorations really didn't seem up their alley.

"Yes. For all their often imbecilic ways, they make quite good interior decorators, when given the chance and a theme."

"Seriously?" Sarah still couldn't quite believe what she was hearing.

"Yes, seriously," Jareth, replied before looking over at her and raising an eyebrow. "Really Sarah. If I were going to lie to you, I'd pick something a little more believable."

That was a good point, Sarah thought to herself as she put down her groceries and took off her coat. Her hands rested against her new scarf for a moment, before pulling it off and holding it out to Jareth.

"Thanks for the loan," she said. He made no move to take it.

"It was a gift, Sarah," he said, his voice caressing her name in a way that made shivers run all down her spine. "Keep it." He stepped past her into the kitchen with his bag before she had time to respond. Sarah thought about the implications of accepting a gift from a Fae and decided, 'Screw it. Er, the implications, not the Fae. Hell, the Fae too. Oh shut up. You could get him to make me... No! I will not be distracted! Screw _the implications_ of accepting a gift from a Fae, it's warm and soft (I'm sure he is too, I mean really, you should get a feel—SHUT UP!) and I will keep it!' Sarah grabbed her bag and hurried towards the kitchen before the hormone-driven voice could keep arguing. Or worse, win.

When Sarah arrived in the kitchen she discovered the Goblin King had returned to his fantastic glory, wild hair, tight pants, gloves and all. Her hormones started up at a rousing rendition of the Hallelujah chorus that seemed to be accompanied by a saxophone and some drums, the music doing interesting things in the regions of her hips. Jareth leaned against a counter, having emptied his bag onto the table.

"Right. I'll put away the groceries and then we can get this party started!" Sarah distracted herself by putting away the groceries as Jareth watched her every move. When she was finished, she started the oven preheating and turned to face Jareth.

"So Goblin King, you ready to move on?"

"Together," he specified as he nodded.

"Right!" said Sarah as she prepared to make her favourite chocolate cake. "The first thing we need to do is mix the wet ingredients." She paused. "Uh, you like chocolate cake, right?" At his nod, she turned and rummaged around her kitchen, grabbing what she needed. "So," she asked Jareth as he watched her from the other side of the table. "Winter Solstice, did you have any plans for the night? Can you grab the measuring spoons? They're in that drawer."

"Well," he said, moving towards the drawer she'd indicated. "There's a large party thrown every year, but it's never particularly interesting."

"Really? Why?"

"Well, two main reasons. The first is that I am the child-taker. Other Fae fear me and my powers. They are just as susceptible to the power of the Labyrinth as humans are. Then there are the Sisselth representative."

"The Sisslel—"

"Sisselth," Jareth corrected her stumbling pronunciation.

"Right. Them." Sarah didn't even bother trying to say it again. "What's one of them and why are they a problem? And can you measure out a couple of cups of sugar?"

"They are a snakelike people," Jareth explained as he measured out the two cups of sugar and she mixed the eggs, milk and melted butter and chocolate. "Every year they come to me asking me to sign an agreement to marry their next queen." He sighed and poured the sugar into the bowl she was mixing. Sarah's mixing faltered momentarily at this news, but she quickly got back into the rhythm.

"They want you to marry a snake?" she asked, before gesturing at for him to measure the flour.

"Not necessarily. The trial for she who is to become the next queen has yet to be completed and technically any race can try it." Jareth took in Sarah's nonplussed expression and decided to explain more fully. "You see, they have a rather strange belief system. They believe that there are many universes—"

"The multiverse," Sarah supplied. "It's what humans call that theory," she explained at his raised eyebrow.

"Indeed. In any case. They believe that there are several goddesses and gods who have complete power over one or more universes. Apparently they received a message from their goddess that I was to marry their future queen. However, what is not clear is who she is meant to be, when she will come an even if this is the universe in which I am supposed to marry her. They claim that in one of the universes, my marrying her will lead to happy endings, after, of course, overcoming all the obstacles She sets in our path, etc, etc. When I point out that if their goddess wants me to marry their future queen, She would have made me want to marry her, there is much confusion until one of them invariably points out that my resistance might be one of the obstacles that needs to be overcome to reach the 'Happy Ending.' It's all very annoying and to be honest I'm very glad to have an excuse not to go this year. They will probably all think I'm taking a Wished-Away. They understand that my duties come first and will probably be glad to be rid of me."

"Are they cruel?" Sarah asked, sympathetic.

"Cruel?" he asked dismissively. "They would never be so unwise as to be cruel to a Monarch. No, but one can sense that they do not want me there. However, it would not do to let them forget my status, or my powers, and so I do attend most years. It is merely... tiresome."

"Oh," Sarah said as she mixed in the last ingredients. "Well, glad I could provide an excuse." She dipped her finger in the batter, before remembering to be polite and holding out the bowl to Jareth. "Wanna taste?" she offered.

She knew she'd done something wrong when his eyes gleamed.

"Oh yes, Precious," he said. In one move he stepped towards her, took the bowl and put it on the counter with one hand and captured her wrist with the other. "I would most definitely like a taste." He brought her batter covered finger up to his lips. Holding eye contact, he carefully licked her finger clean. Sarah shuddered at the sensation of his tongue on her skin. "Delicious," he breathed, warm breath tickling her wet skin. He grinned at her. "I look forward to trying the finished dish," he said, letting go of her wrist. After a moment, Sarah drew back her hand.

'Right,' her hormones decided, 'time to get horizontal with minimal clothing. It's pretty obvious he wants it. If you lose your shirt I'm pretty sure he'll get the message.' For a moment, Sarah found herself agreeing and had a hand toying with the hem of her shirt before she realized what was about to do.

'No. Wait. The ritual—'

'Screw the ritual. _Screw the Fae!_'

'No. We are completing this ritual. We need to leave the past behind us. And there is no way that I am sleeping with him until we do that.'

'You need to get your priorities straight,' grumbled her hormones, but they did (eventually) quiet down and let her focus on something other than her and the Goblin King, naked, together, intw—STOP THAT!

"Well," Sarah said, "then you can butter the pan." She went to rummage through her cupboards, pulled out a cake pan, and held it out to him.

"I do believe this is you righting a wrong to me." He pushed the pan back towards her. "You should butter the pan."

Sarah raised an eyebrow at him. He responded in kind. Sarah sighed, took the pan, and got to greasing it. He did have a point, but she would get him back for this when it was her turn. Ah, the King of the Goblins washing her dishes and cleaning her counters. This was going to be sweet. No, wait. Moving on from the past was the point of this, not petty revenge... no matter how sweet it would be.

Finally, the cake was in the oven, the timer set and the task completed—at least, half-completed. They still needed to eat the cake.

"My turn!" Sarah said with a wicked gleam in her eye. Jareth was smart enough to be wary. Remembering what the next task was, he pulled a crystal out of the air.

"I merely have to clean the kitchen, right? Simple enough." He focused on the spell he was about to cast.

"Oh no," Sarah said, shaking her head at him. "You put that thing away." She waved at the crystal that he had poised on his fingertips, ready to throw in the air to cast a spell. "I had to run from the cleaners without magic, you get to clean the kitchen without it." She reached over to the sink, grabbed her yellow rubber gloves and draped them over his outstretched arm. "So get cleaning, Goblin King!" Jareth gave her a pained look and Sarah remembered she was supposed to be moving on just as much as he was. 'Damn conscience...' She grabbed a dishtowel and moved a bowl to the sink. "Come on," she offered, stepping back. "You wash, I'll dry." He put the rubber gloves on over his own and got to work.

For the first several minutes, they worked in silence, the sound of the clink of dishes and running water filled the air. Sarah considered the Goblin King as he washed her dishes. There was a quiet determination on his face as he scrubbed away at chocolate-coveredbowls and floury measuring cups. Each time he would hand her a dish he was finished with, it would be sparkling clean. Sarah suspected magic, but she wasn't going to call him on it. She had no way of proving it and besides, he was scrubbing away at the dishes. He was doing something to make up making her run for her life. She felt like this should have been more life threatening in recompense for her terror, but she rather thought his pride was taking enough of a beating.

It was as she thought this that Jareth started to sing.

"Tomorrow shall be my dancing day," he started as he finished the penultimate dish.

"I would my true love would so chance,

To see the legend of my play

To call my true love to my dance."

It was strange to hear Jareth singing Christmas carols. They were so different from any of the other songs he'd song her while she was in the Labyrinth, but it still sounded beautiful. That was in part due to the carol he'd chosen. She didn't think any other suited him quite so well.

"Sing ho, my love," He sung, rinsing off the wooden spoon.

"Ho my love," Sarah joined him. His voice faltered for a moment before joining her for the rest of the chorus.

"My love, my love." He turned to her, handing her the spoon as he sang. "This have I done for my true love..."

Sarah's eyes widened as she took in the words and the proffered spoon. "Well, Precious?" He waved the spoon at her. Spell broken, she reached out and took the spoon from him and started to dry it. Jareth took off the gloves and gave them a rather disgusted look before leaving them on the edge of the sink to dry. He leaned against the counter and spoke as Sarah put away the spoon.

"As I understand this little ritual of yours," he said as she turned back to him. "It is now my turn to pick a ritual to right a wrong?"

"Yep," Sarah said. Thinking over the two he had left, she honestly wasn't sure which wrong she'd prefer he'd pick. She was sure she wasn't getting out of either of them without a serious war on her hormones.

"I think I'll choose the embrace you gave Hoggle as the next wrong to be righted."

"Alright," Sarah said, refusing to show him that she was nervous. "And how do you want to right that?"

"I think equal treatment would suffice," he said, smirking. "A hug and a kiss on the cheek, as the top of my head is a little too high for you to reach easily."

"That's all?" Sarah asked, feeling rather relieved—_not _disappointed. She was worried—not hoping, (hormones, you have no power over me!)—he'd twist this into something much worse.

"That's all," he said, his expression setting off warning bells in Sarah's head. He opened his arms to her.

"Right, before we start this, I want to know exactly what I'm getting into," she said, giving his inviting arms a wary look. Sighing, he let his arms fall.

"Very well," he said, looking over at her. "What would you like to know?"

"How long?"she asked. That was her biggest worry, that she wouldn't be getting out of his arms for quite some time.

"I think five minutes will do nicely," he replied, still smiling.

"And no reordering of time?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him. His smile slipped slightly.

"Very well," he replied.

"And I am only agreeing to kiss you on the cheek, alright?"

He gave her a look that pulled back words he had sung to her many years ago. 'Your eyes can be so cruel.' 'Oh yeah Goblin King?' she thought to herself. 'Well you've claimed that you can be just as cruel. This isn't refusing to move on, this is imposing sensible precautions when dealing with the Fae.'

"Very _well,_ Sarah. We both agree to these conditions?" He opened his arms to her. Sarah nodded and stepped into them, wrapping her own arms around his waist. His arms rested on her back, holding her close. At first she stood stiffly in his arms, not entirely sure what she should be doing. He began to rub small circles on her back. Sarah allowed herself to relax against him. She lay her head gently against his chest, partially touching his shirt, which was incredibly soft, and his skin, which was even softer. At least his shirt didn't send electricity coursing through her. He let his cheek rest on her hair and started humming the Christmas carol from earlier, slowly swaying from side to side. Sarah could feel the vibrations of his voice through his chest. They stayed like that for what felt like quite some time, swaying slightly in time with the music.

Eventually, Jareth murmured into her hair, "Our time is almost up, Precious, and you have yet to complete our deal." He took his head away from her own. Sighing, Sarah pulled her head away from his chest, and looked up at him. The look in his eyes gave her a moment's pause. His eyes were dark but soft and he looked as if he wished this moment would never end. Taking a deep breath, Sarah got up onto her toes and kissed his cheek lightly, then breathed "Happy Solstice, Jareth." His arms spasmed around her for a moment before he let her go. She took a step back and looked away. She didn't think she could look at him right now. His expression was too much to bear.

Sarah's eyes fell on the candles she'd left on the counter. Reminded, she walked over to them. She picked them up and turned back to him.

"My turn," she said, still looking at the candles.

"Indeed," he said, his voice rough. He swallowed before continuing. "And what is the next task?"

Sarah made herself look up. "Well," she said, "next is recompense for the Bog of Eternal Stench." She held out the candles towards him. "I thought maybe lighting some of these would work."

Jareth reached out and took the box from her. He considered it before opening it and smelling the contents.

"Vanilla," he commented, closing the box. "Sarah, I believe I can right this wrong much more easily with the ability to use my magic to do so. May I?"

"Just what are you planning, Jareth?" Sarah asked, looking at her closed box of candles.

"Well, Precious, I was planning on summoning a few more scented candles than the two in this box."

"Won't that be a fire hazard?" Sarah asked.

"Sarah, I will not allow your apartment or yourself or any of your possessions to be harmed by this spell." Sarah was a little leery at the use of the word "this" but nodded her consent, remembering that this was the man who had made her walls glow with frost that wasn't there. Jareth smiled and summoned a crystal from the air. He let it roll over his hands, spinning it in one, letting it flow back to the other as he pictured exactly what he wanted this spell to do. Finally he threw it into the air and it exploded in a cloud of glitter.

When the glitter had settled, Sarah's apartment was filled with hundreds of smokeless candles. A faint smell of vanilla wafted through the air. The candles were beautiful, their light flickering against the frosted walls, making them sparkle in a way that her normal lights never could. At the centre of her kitchen table there stood three unlit candles.

"Do you have a match?" He asked her. He could have lit these ones just as well with his spell, but he knew that it meant something to Sarah that it be at least partially done without magic. Sarah rummaged through her miscellaneous drawer and pulled out a small box of matches. She handed it too him and he carefully lit one, before lighting the three candles. They were beautiful where they sat on her table. The entire scene was beautiful, and she could barely believe it. It felt like magic.

The moment was broken by her timer going off, signalling the cake being finished. Sarah hurriedly grabbed her oven mitts and pulled out the cake. The knife she inserted came out clean, so she popped it out of its pan onto a cooling rack.

"Is it ready to eat?" Jareth asked, eyeing the cake hungrily.

"Not yet," Sarah said, moving between him and the cake. "It needs 15 minutes to cool before we can ice it and then eat it."

"Ice it?" Jareth asked. "Why do we need to apply ice?" He'd thought one of the pleasures of baking the cake would be getting to eat it warm, as he had in his castle when he was young... Mortals could be so _strange_.

"You'll see," Sarah said, smiling at his confusion. She had mixed icing while they were getting the batter ready and had slipped it into her fridge. "So, what do you want to do to pass the time?" she asked. Jareth's eyes glinted as he tilted his head and grinned at her.

"Well, I can think of several things I'd like to do to pass the time. You'd probably enjoy them as well, Precious. Yes, I rather think—"

"Maybe the next step in the ritual!" Sarah exclaimed, cutting him off before he could get any more suggestive or her hormones could stage a successful revolution against the dictator. Jareth glanced up at the clock.

"I can only do my next step in a little over a minute, and I do believe it is my turn." Jareth said.

Sarah glanced at the clock. As she watched, the minute hand ticked from 11:58 to 11:59.

"Why do you need to wait for midnight?" She asked, looking back at Jareth who was watching the clock intently.

"Wait, Precious, and see."

Together, they stood and watched the second hand make its slow way around the clock. Finally, it was midnight. Sarah turned to look at Jareth, who was smiling.

"Well?" Sarah asked, wondering what could be so important about midnight.

"It is now tomorrow," he explained, a smile slowly taking over his face.

"And?" Sarah asked, still not seeing what he was getting at.

He began to hum. _Tomorrow shall be my dancing day_... Sarah's eyes widened as she finally understood. "Well, love?" he asked, pulling his gloves off and extending a bare hand towards her. "Shall we dance?"

* * *

><p>AN: Holy cow I'm pretty sure I got cavities while writing this. So much sweet, so few pages! Ack!

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed and will let me know what you think in a comment or a kudos.

Finally, the whole "Sisselth" thing. One of my strange writing habits is mentioning ideas I have for other stories in stories that have nothing to do with each other (aside from the fandom). In case you were wondering, the God and Goddesses of the Sisselth would be fanfiction writers... Hehehe... Anyway, this story may be coming out once I finish To Serve Her Purpose.

I'll see you all on New Years. Happy Holidays!


	3. Evergreen

A/N:HAPPY EPIPHANY! HAPPY NEW YEAR!

I'm really sorry this is so late. I forgot to plan around relatives when I was planning out my writing schedule. I hope you all had wonderful holidays and that this is a pleasant way to send them off.

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>Sarah gingerly took Jareth's hand and followed him into her living room which was now bare of furniture, the tree standing beautifully in the corner.<p>

"Jareth," Sarah said, a warning tone in her voice, "what happened to my furniture?"

"Magic," he replied. When she didn't look any less threatening he sighed and continued. "Look, your furnishings are all safe in this crystal," he said, summoning one from the air and showing it to her. Inside she could see all of her furniture being cleaned by goblins. Was that one actually fixing the loose leg on her coffee table? Maybe she should have Jareth over more often. Or see if the Goblins would fix stuff for her on their own. It seemed like she'd made the right decision bringing him back into her life.

"Sarah, if we are to dance, you need to remove that amulet. I really can't stand exposure much longer, especially without my gloves."

Sarah's hand flew up to touch the chain that still hung around her neck. Her eyes widened in horror. "Jareth, oh my gods, are you alright? That hug, I didn't—"

"I am _fine_, Sarah," he reassured her. "Between myself and the iron there were two layers of cloth, and I was wearing my gloves, which are spelled for protection. As the King of the Goblins, the Child-Taker, I am more likely to run into Iron than my peers and so it pays be cautious. I am prepared to trust you, Sarah." The 'are you?' hung unsaid in the air. Sarah fiddled with the chain, considering her options. She could take it off or leave it on. The choice seemed simple, if not for the implications held in each path. The real question was: was she ready to move on? Could she actually trust him? Was she willing to give him a real chance? He had tried nothing while they'd been together and she'd been the one to start this. She could take her amulet and press it against him, burning him horribly, but he was trusting her not to. She could trust him not to hurt her. Besides, she was still protected by the deal. Carefully, she slid the chain over her head, and, not seeing anywhere else to put it, hung it on her Christmas tree.

"Thank you, Sarah. Now for some music." He summoned a crystal and dropped it on the floor. It shattered into a cloud of glitter and music started to waft through the air. It was a light waltz, beautiful and simple and thankfully _not_ the music that had been playing in the crystal ballroom. He bowed shallowly to her and offered her his arm. She curtsied just as shallowly and took it. He gave her hand a slight pull and she stepped towards him. He placed his hand on her back, holding her close to him and started leading her around the room.

Sarah had learned some ballroom dance in the last few years and so knew that he was holding her a little closer than was necessarily proper, but she couldn't really say she minded. He smelled amazing, was warm and close and here, and she wouldn't have it any other way. He danced her through one circuit of the room before spinning her.

"You've improved," Jareth said as she came back into place and rested her hand on his shoulder.

"I've had practice. Besides, being under extreme amounts of pressure to find something you can't remember does not make for smooth dancing. Nor does being laughed at or mocked by a room full of people," Sarah said, pulling a little away from him.

"True," he said, letting her pull back. "But do try to remember I did not say you were a bad dancer then. I'll admit your manners were a little less than ideal, but you had your reasons and besides..." He smiled. "What's past is past, correct? Although I will always count the beginning and middle of that dance as one of the most pleasant experiences of my very long life. You've _always_ been an excellent dancer."

Sarah smiled, blushing and looking away. "As have you," she replied, stepping a little closer again.

"You know, Precious, I do hope we get to dance again. I may call on you again yes? That _is_ the point of this ritual, correct?"

"Yep. Like you said, friends, 'bosom companions.'" Jareth snorted softly. Then suddenly he pulled her much closer, the space between them becoming very very small.

"And like you said, Precious," he breathed into her ear. "Friends is a very good place _to start._" Again he spun her. It wasn't just the spin that made her head swim a little. When he pulled her back, again the distance between them was quite small.

"You alright there, my love?" he asked her. Sarah's head jerked up at the word and she saw his teasing expression.

"I'm fine, Goblin King," she said, her eyes narrowing.

"Are you sure I can not help you?" he said, tilting his head as they waltzed past the tree. His long hair tickled Sarah's cheeks and suddenly she realized how close he was. The dancing suddenly stopped at they stood there, in each other's arms, lips inches apart. For a few minutes, neither one moved. Both of them were breathing shallowly, their eyes locked, each waiting for the other to make a move. Jareth's hand tightened around hers and Sarah licked her lips. His eyes locked on the movement. As his grip tightened again she couldn't help noticing his hands were incredibly soft and strong.

"Jareth?" Sarah whispered, unable to make her voice louder.

"Yes?" He breathed, his head moving that much closer.

"Aren't we supposed to be dancing?" His breath puffed out in a laugh. "Yes." His eyes glinted, "I suppose we are." And he stepped seamlessly back into the dance.

Sarah was really starting to wonder if she'd get through this night without getting at least kissed. Then again, that was seeming like less and less of a bad idea.

In a much more restrained manner he lead her around the room again and again. Finally, Jareth brought them to a stand-still.

"Look up, Sarah dearest," he told her, smirking. Sarah quirked her eyebrow at him. When his expression didn't change, she looked up.

"You know," Sarah said, considering the red berries that hung from the ceiling above them. "I'm pretty sure that that is holly." She raised her eyebrow and stepped out of his arms. "And I'd like my furniture back now, the cake is ready for icing."

"Ah well," Jareth said, letting her go. With a flick of his wrist, he was holding the crystal again. "You'll want to step out of the room for this, Precious. I've seen two objects trying to occupy the same space. It's not a very pretty sight and certainly not how I'd like to end my Solstice." Sarah quickly stepped into the hall.

Jareth seemed to take a moment to consider the room around him. He threw the crystal into the air and there it hung for a moment before exploding. A cloud of glitter expanded to fill the room. It started to spin faster and faster, obscuring Jareth from view. Sarah backed away from the silver cloud that filled the room. A single word cut through the cloud, sharp and commanding, and all of a sudden the cloud was gone. Jareth stood between her coffee table and couch, which were far cleaner than they had ever looked. Sarah walked carefully into the room and poked her coffee table. It firmly did not wobble. Sarah was impressed.

Jareth gave her a bemused look as she straightened up. "The cake?" he asked.

"Right!" Sarah said, returning to the kitchen. Jareth leaned against the table as Sarah got the cake and icing. "Can you grab a spatula from the drawer?"

"A spatula?" Jareth asked, not understanding her.

"Oh never mind," Sarah sighed, and went and got the utensil herself. She carefully started spreading the icing over the cake, focusing on getting an even layer all around. She nodded to the counter where the peaches sat. "While I'm doing this, can you cut those into slices? You can find a knife in the second drawer." Jareth sauntered over to collect the things he would need before setting up at the table and going about his task.

"You said you've been taking dance lessons?" he asked as he cut through the skin of the first peach and into its juicy flesh.

"Yeah," Sarah said as she gathered more icing on her spatula. "I've been taking classes on and off for years, whenever I can find the time."

"Is waltz the only kind you study?" He had finished slicing the the first half of the fruit.

"Oh no, I've done all sorts of ballroom, Latin, swing, some forays into jazz and ballet, but I prefer partner dancing."

"Do you..." he murmured darkly. Sarah looked up to see him contact juggling the remaining peach. She glared at it suspiciously.

"You do understand that if there is anything funny about those peaches, the whole deal is off and we never see each other again, right?" she asked slightly suspiciously. She knew she shouldn't be but at the same time, well, there was something inherently unnerving about the combination of Jareth and peaches.

"Completely," he said, picking up the knife again and beginning to slice the second peach. "So, what do you enjoy about partner dancing."

"I don't know, the communication, the way it's a little different every time, whether you're dancing with the same partner or a new one, the back and forth a really good dance has..."

"You know," Jareth gave her a sardonic look. "I can't quite see you as an excellent follower for most partners."

"That's my biggest challenge," Sarah agreed, though privately she added, 'at least when I'm not drugged, confused, or hormonal enough to want to jump my dance partner on the floor by my Christmas tree as the bedroom is too far away and fallen needles be damned.'

"I see. You know, I've been studying ballroom dancing since I was old enough to walk, and though I can imagine how a swing might inspire a dance, I can not imagine how what you consider to be a dead language could inspire a form of dance. Then again, remembering the Romans, perhaps it would be quite interesting after all."

"No, not Latin Rome, Latin America—Wait, what do you mean remembering the Romans?"

"That I remember them. Really, Sarah, do try to keep up. Latin-America?"

"The American countries, mostly South American, where they speak romance languages," Sarah explained.

"Ah." Jareth looked enlightened. "I have seen them dance." His eyes grew bright and intense. "You know their styles, Sarah?"

"Some of them." Sarah was was determined to at least appear calm in the face of that look.

"While I have seen them, I have never learned any of these dances. Will you teach me them someday?"

Sarah's first thought, upon imagining Jareth as a Latin dance partner was _**NO!**_ Which was immediately followed by _**YES!**_ as she continued to imagine Jareth as a Latin dance partner.

"We'll see," she eventually decided as she finished applying the last of the icing. She got up and went to the cupboard to grab some plates. She had just opened the cupboard when she stopped and pointed over her shoulder. "Oy! No sampling!" Living with Toby for years and then having to deal with goblins and the like had given her a supernatural sense of when someone was approaching sweets without permission. Some of the Goblins actually seemed to believe she had eyes in the back of her head; she'd seen pictures they'd drawn of her when she gave them crayons to occupy them while she was cooking.

She got the plates and forks and turned to see a Goblin King who was far too proud to visibly sulk. She knew this wouldn't last very long after he'd had some cake. It was very, very good. She took the knife he'd been using, cut two generous pieces of cake, added the peach slices to the cake and gave the Goblin King his slice. He waited politely while Sarah returned the cake to the counter.

"Dig in," Sarah said as she sat down and took a bite herself. It was heavenly. She was always glad to have an excuse to make this cake...though she'd never had it with peach before. Jareth moaned around his first bite.

"This is delicious, Sarah," He said, spearing another bite. "I must have your recipe."

"Not a chance." Sarah said, eyes sparkling at the compliment. Jareth considered organizing a goblin raid, but eventually decided against it. Sarah would probably not approve and might consider it breach of trust. "You'll have to come back if you want more."

"Sarah," Jareth purred, "is that an invitation?"

"Depends," Sarah said, picking up and considering a slice of peach. "You know, this used to be one of my favourite fruits. I haven't eaten one since I was fifteen." Jareth said nothing, merely watched her. After another moment's private thought, she popped the slice into her mouth.

"Huh," she said after she had swallowed. "So it wasn't poisoned." Jareth gave her a look.

"I do believe the point of this ritual is moving on from past slights," he said rather pointedly.

"True," she said, this time adding a bit of peach to her bite of cake. "They aren't as bad as I thought they'd be."

"Why did you make this a trial if you thought they'd be so awful?" His gaze was considering.

"Relationships of all kind are built on trust, Jareth. I'd never be able to be your friend, or anything else, if I flinched every time I walked past the produce section of a store. I—We had to move past this for this ritual to work. Now when I see peaches, the first memory to come to mind will be this night, this cake, these decorations, this ritual. It won't be of my run. I'll be able to move on this way." Smiling softly she reached out and laid her hand over his. "We will." Jareth smiled back at her, turned his hand over and squeezed hers softly.

"Together," he replied.

When they had finished the last of the cake and the fruit, Sarah put their plates in the sink and turned back to Jareth.

"Want to go sit in the living room? The couch is pretty comfy and," her eyes twinkled, "has recently been made spotless."

"There will be a reckoning if it hasn't been," he muttered to himself.

"Pardon?" Sarah asked, looking back over her shoulder.

"Nothing," he replied, getting up and following her.

"Nothing, nothing, tra-la-la?"

"Exactly," he smirked. Sarah glanced up before sitting on the couch and patting the place next to her. Never one to pass up so tempting an invitation, the Goblin King sat.

"So," he asked. "What now?"

"Well, the ritual is over. Now we can move on in our friendship."

"That's all?" he asked, feeling kind of surprised.

"Yep," Sarah said smiling. "We've forgiven each other and can now build a relationship. I can teach you Latin dance, you can teach me contact juggling." He looked surprised that she'd want to learn. Although," Sarah and her hormones smirked. They had a plan. "There is one other thing we should do before you leave." He raised his eyebrows at her. "Look up."

"You know," Jareth said, considering the red berries that hung from the ceiling above them, "I have been reliably informed that those are, in fact, holly."

"Oh, close enough," Sarah said, rolling her eyes and kissing him. His lips were soft under hers, still for a moment, before he returned the kiss. There was something right in kissing Jareth on Solstice, a time for new beginnings. She did want them to be friends, but that didn't stop her from wanting them to be more. The kiss was soft yet passionate and leaning into it she could feel all their old hurts wash away.

Eventually she pulled away to look him in the eyes.

"Jareth?" she asked.

"Yes, love?" he replied, looking happy and dazed and concerned all at once. She rested her head against his chest and smiled.

"Happy Solstice."

When he replied, she could hear his smile.

"Happy Solstice, Precious."

* * *

><p>AN:My friend would like to point out a couple of things.

The first is that, if they Goblins are such great interior decorators, they probably were in charge of designing/decorating the crystal ballroom and so the installation of "That Damn Mirror". The one who suggested it was never seen again, though there are rumors parts of him being found in the Bog.

The second is that Jareth probably had to spend quite some time explaining the difference between "cleaning" and "Cleaners" to the Goblins. Lucky for him they finally got it, huh?

And so, this concludes Solstice Dawning. I hope you all enjoyed it. I know I did. Thanks reading!


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